Puppy Love 28

Bands of energy cross the universe, and when we, more spirit than form, move through them, we become imbued with feeling.

That is why, on my next visit to the house, I was charged with eros, the fuel of the Prime Mover, the very source of creative energy.

“What do you say about getting to work creating a pup?” I suggested to Emery. “Ready to keep this lineage going?”


He seemed to like the idea all right. Though friendly with both Nougat and Prissy, it was the border collie whom he approached with raised tail and snout. She ducked her head for him.


Soon they nuzzled, then off they went, chasing each other through the meadow, and into the woods.

I left, happy to imagine the fine-looking pup that might come call them sire and dam.

When I next returned, Prissy showed signs of pregnancy, swollen teets and a belly beginning to sag.

Chloe and Miss Molly gave her mothering lessons.

“Now don’t coddle the pup,” Miss Molly said.

“Pounce!” said Chloe. “Never too young for pounce!”


I left again, pulled by the invisible lines transversing space, and when I returned the third time, Prissy lay on the patio with the early pangs of labor.


“Come, dear,” I said. “You’ll be happier inside.”

She settled on the couch, and I kept vigil while she rested between the bursts of pain.


In the wee hours, with a whimper and a stretch, she bore her single pup, a white silky male a near image of his sire.


Lucas calls him Felix.

“Because you make me happy,” Lucas said. “You’re our Luck Pup.”


How has this funny boy, Lucas, grown into such a fine man, finding joy in puppies and dogs, living his life with my furry estate?


Prissy, proud of her little pup, wasn’t quite sure where to begin–did she follow Miss Molly’s not-coddling advice? Chloe’s pounce advice?

Or could she come up with something that was authentically her?


Before she could decide, in rushed the grand-sire and grand-dam, and there was Lucas, in the midst of the commotion with the little pup barking up at him in a high puppy voice.

“What do you want, little guy?” Lucas asked.

And it sounded like Felix barked back, “Pounce me!”


A little rub calmed the pup, but Chloe had caught the spirit of fun.

“Pounce, pounce? Yes, pup!” she barked back.

And the round of play had begun.


Felix knows the circle–maybe that’s his secret of happiness. We say goodbye, we say hello. Patterns repeat: same nose, same fur, same games and play.

Some things change–we change. But still the play continues. Puppies pounce.

Bands of energy crisscross this earth, too, and when we spirits move through them, we pick up the feelings in the fiber of our remembered form. This is why, after visiting with Felix and his family, I became colored with the light of happiness. I don’t mind belonging to the After when I can still visit the Now. And when the Now is filled with puppy, it fills me with joy.


<< Previous


Puppy Love 26


Do you ever find yourself acting on an idea whose genesis you can’t trace? Where’d that idea come from?

Maybe you were sitting on your couch, feeling a little sad, missing someone, perhaps, or feeling forlorn. Then, next you know, you feel an impulse blow through you.

“I need to get out!” You say. “I need some fresh air!”

Sometimes, we are the ones who whisper these ideas to you, we spirits in the After who never really leave, who always watch and wait for you to listen.

In this way, Lucas found himself following a notion to take Emery for a run along the boardwalk. Oh, yes! I explicitly whispered, “Emery! Emery wants a run! And it will do you good, too.”


By the time Lucas stopped running, he found himself wondering. What was he doing there? I rode the breeze around him. Emery barked softly.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, pup?” he said.

Do you know that you can see us in reflected light? I shimmered over the waves, singing Lucas’s name, but only Emery listened.


“You’re not alone here, Emery,” I sang. “You’re not alone!”


Lucas let him off the leash, and Emery raced down to the dock, passing another dog, a stray.


Nougat is a boxer with a tail that’s never been bobbed and ears that have never been clipped. She’s lived on the beach for a few months in a loose pack of strays.

Lucas called over an Irish setter, who’d been following Nougat. But it wasn’t the setter that I’d brought Lucas here to see.

“Out on the dock,” I whispered. “Keep on!”


While Lucas befriended Nougat, the dog I’d led them there to meet appeared: Prissy,  a beautiful, intelligent, friendly border collie with the right spirit to bring healing to a home submerged in grief.


Prissy raised her head and sang, long and low, stirring in me all the memories of life and living in a house full of pups.

Sweet days
with sticks and balls and bones

Sweet nights
with a rug on the floor in a home

What a dog,
every dog,
what a dog

wants: a home,
a stick, a bone.

Her song got inside of us.

“You look so lonely,” Lucas said to Nougat. “Do you like living here on the beach, scrounging for food? Wouldn’t you rather come home with us?”


Of course she wanted that. It was fine with Emery, too, but it wasn’t what he had in mind.

What a dog
with a tail and ears and brown eyes

What a dog
with cute feet and just the right size

I like a dog
with long fur

Long ears
and a song

What a dog…


Nougat and I liked his song, but Nougat knew he wasn’t singing about her.


“You’ve caught another dog’s scent, then?” she asked.


He looked up the dock, where Prissy sat.

“She can sing,” he replied.


He trotted up beside her.

“Come meet Lucas,” he said.


And the moment she met him, the moment Lucas met her, we knew, this border collie had found her new home.


But what about Nougat? We can’t leave her behind!

She ran and pounced on Lucas.

“Oh!” he said. “You know the great game of Pounce? Then you belong with us!”

Of course I had my reasons in sending Lucas to the beach with Emery. I hoped he’d find a beautiful dog to bring home.

He surprised me by bringing home two.


The house was full again–six big dogs! And Lucas spent all his time filling supper dishes, bathing dirty dogs, and mopping muddy paw prints.

But through all his efforts, he smiled. He sang.

“So many dogs
So little time!

“So many paws!
Each one divine!”

There are as many ways to heal from grief as there are to grieve. But every healing happens through love.


<< Previous  | Next >>